Possibilities
by Sara A. Black
Summary: Seven years have passed since the end of the war. Harry is looking at his life again, not knowing that Draco is thinking over things as well. When an attack finds one helpless, and the other the only thing keeping them alive. What are the possibilities?
1. Chapter 1

The night was cold for June, and the rain fell so as to put to mind walking through the beaded doorways of old tea rooms. Pulling the jacket he wore closer a man walked into a pub, the creaking sign above the door reading The Leaky Cauldron. Walking to the bar he made his order of Dragon's Blood wine then turned to stride to the figure of another man, his silver hair illuminated by the fire's light on his profile. The gray haired man looked up to his new companion and smiled gently, lowering the glass he had held to his lips a moment before and extended his hand. "Hello Harry"

Harry took the hand and shook it nodding, his green eyes meeting the pale silver of the others. "G'evening Remus," Releasing his hand Harry sat, pulling off his sopped jacket, laying it over the back of his chair, a hand running back and through his hair, slicking it back with the rain water that kept it from its normal tussled appearance. "How are you doing?" Behind wire rimmed glasses his eyes flicked up to Tom, nodding to the inn keeper as he brought the bottle of wine to their table, setting two glasses before them and filling them before he retreated behind the bar.

"No better then you are I would wager," Remus lifted the glass he held in his hand, the honey colored liquid illuminated by the fire, the same that threw Remus's face into deep relief. Wrinkles that would perhaps not be seen otherwise were drawn out, created by years of worry and pain. Bringing the glass to his lips he took a draw from its contents, swallowing with a slight grimace. "Fire Whisky, Sirius was the one the introduced me to it, didn't really used to care for it…but you know how things change."

Harry nodded, lifting his glass of wine and taking a drink as well. "I know," He watched his companion with sad and watchful eyes. "Nine years...and it still feels fresh as if it were still the night. I still can't believe it some times."

"I feel the same…"

"I'm sorry Remus…"

"Harry, stop" He took another drink of the whiskey and shook his head, closing his eyes, his head slightly bowed. "It was years ago, you grieved just as much as I, he was you God father, your father's best friend-"

"-And your lover Remus. Yes, I lost a father figure, and a dear friend…but you lost a friend and the person you loved." Harry shifted in his chair slightly and sipped at his wine. He'd only known this fact for a few years now, only since he had been talking with Remus one day, the only father figure he had left. He had confessed noticing a slight attraction to another student at the Auror Academy, by the name of Lawry, another young man. During this talk, one containing more then a few uncomfortable pauses, and many a drink to slake the nerves, Remus had made the confession of knowing the feeling, only his affections had lain in a best friend, and that they had come to fruition back in school_. We never even told James. _He had said. _Sirius and I weren't sure how he'd take it, how anyone would, so we never told anyone, though I think he knew. Just the way he would smile whenever Sirius and I would sit together when it was the two of us and your parents, and the way we would shift whenever Lily mentioned setting us up. We had been lovers in school, and after. When we had been able to see each other again, it had been like nothing had happened and we were close again. But then…what am I prattling on about, you had asked my advice. _Remus had advised Harry to be entirely sure of himself before he stepped through that dangerous door, Harry had fought dangers in the past, and dealt with a great deal, but he was not stupid for the most part, and knew that some things were not to be done without some thought and research. He knew that now thanks to Hermione, and thanks to all his stupid mistakes had cost him. "I cost us both someone special that night."

"It wasn't your fault. There was so much going on behind that night, blame should hardly be an issue, let alone after nine years. It's over, it has been, so there's not reason why we should still be destroying ourselves over this." The Fire Whiskey was near gone now as the glass completed another trip to the werewolf's mouth and returned to the table, this time with a bit more vigor then previous landings.

"You say that every year, and every year we still meet here and drink to Sirius. So let's just shut up and get drunk shall we?" He pulled a smile to his face and raised the glass, taking a long drink, tilting his head back to allow the red liquid to slide down easily.

Remus nodded and then finished his Fire Whiskey, then lifted the wine glass that had been awaiting him, taking a drink. Watching Harry, he found himself wondering if this would have been what James had been like if he had lived to be Harry's age, or Sirius, if he had not been locked up at his point in his life. But just as Harry had suggested, the tradition must carry on. Since the war had been won and they were able to properly morn, this had become their tradition, he hardly wished to change something that had worked well enough for years.

Harry set his glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and removed his glasses, taking out his handkerchief, wiping them clean before replacing them, and looking at Remus again. He really had no idea what to talk about, they never seemed to when they met on the anniversary of Sirius's death. They wanted to talk about Sirius, but at the same time, they didn't want to think about him and make their hearts ache again. Anything would do as a topic outside of this… "So…Lawry was made my partner…"

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He took another drink and swallowed thinking. "Do you still think you may have feelings for him?"

"Yeah, I think I do. But I don't think he cares much past friends, which is fine you know?"

"Yes, I know what you mean." He nodded and studied Harry. "You know, I have to wonder if I'm the only one you've ever discussed this with. Do Ron and Hermione know perhaps?"

"No, they don't," He poured himself another glass and took a drink. "Remus, you're the only person I can really discuss this with, you're the only one that would understand. And the last thing I need to do is to give Hermione one more thing to worry about with her research, the possibility of Ron getting killed while playing quidditch or one of the twins hurting themselves. She has her plate full, and with England so close to the World Cup Ron doesn't need to worry about anything but that."

"You could have told them anytime over the last five years Harry. And what about when you started to notice things in school? Didn't you tell them then?"

"No…I just. Damn it Remus you should know that it's not something you're particularly keen to tell people, even your closest friends."

"Which…is why I want to encourage you to tell them. It would have meant a lot less grief for Sirius and myself had we been a bit more honest." There he was, Sirius. Remus took a drink, he knew why Harry had turned the conversation, but knew that sooner or later one of them would bring him up again.

"I, guess so…But just the same…That's something I'd rather not get into right now," Green eyes turned to the fire, watching it flicker and watching bits of ash travel on the updrafts of the flame, dancing it seemed. He watched the flight of embers as a log creaked and broke, the little red lights sparking out, a universal spell for help. "Maybe someone's in trouble," He said off handedly as he noticed Remus had been watching as well.

"Perhaps, but if they need you they'll call on you will they not?" He pointed at the ring Harry wore on his right ring finger with a finger removed and extended from his glass.

"Yeah, so I shouldn't worry should I? I'm trying to get rid of this hero complex of mine," He smiled a little thinking of Hermione's warnings all those years ago today. _You have…well sort of a hero complex Harry, and You Know Who would know about that._

"So you became an auror?" He chuckled.

He shook his head smirking slightly at Remus and took a drink. "You're right I never learn."

"You have never known anything but heroism, why would you expect to change?"

"I don't know, maybe to spar everyone the pain."

"You'd also take away the hope and joy you had brought and still bring though the war is over. You know there's still much to do."

"I know," He raised the glass. "And THAT is why I'm an auror, besides, like father, like son." He took another drink.

They were laughing as they left together, leaning slightly on each other, though their laughter turned to silence as they let go and turned to straiten their clothing, both slightly flushed with the alcohol, and not quite consciously happy that the rain had finally stopped. Harry stuck out his hand to Remus and smiled a little stupidly with drunkenness. "I'll be seeing you soon then shall I?"

Remus smiled a little and nodded, his eyes now dark with the shadows cast by the lights of the street. "As always, I'll see you soon." He chuckled slightly and shook Harry's hand before turning away, and walking off towards his home, an apartment rather near St. Mungo's. They had given him a job there helping to council those who had suffered from werewolf bites, an epidemic that had risen during the end of the war and in the years after, as those who had fought for the dark side and gotten away, were trying to gain their vengeance in the only way they new how, by trying to destroy as many lives as possible.

Harry watched Remus go before nodding and turning about, taking a step and having to stop himself to gather his bearings. He took a deep breath and cleared his head, and began walking, turning the corner into an alleyway, and disappearing with a gentle pop. A few miles out of London he reappeared, walking out of a small patch of trees in a park, stepping onto the path that would take him to a road, and down that road, to the door to his home. Once there he extracted his key sliding it into the lock after a few fruitless tries, and entering his dark home with a slight chuckle as he had to lean upon the door for support for a moment. "I'll have the mother of all hangovers come morning," He chuckled again and pulled himself inside shutting the door and locking it behind him.

With a few stumbling steps he removed his jacket, slamming it into place on the coat rack as he lost his balance and had to use the coat to hold himself up. He giggled quietly and then pushed himself to a standing position and walked away towards his bed room, his jacket falling to the floor with a plop behind him due to his violent retreat. Once within his bed room he made short work of removing his shoes, jeans, and button up shirt, finishing by dropping onto bed in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. The pillow was friendly as always as he snuggled into it, before sitting up enough to remove his glasses with a giggle. "Oops!" He kicked the sheets down and then crawled under them with a deep sigh, staring at the fuzzy ceiling for a moment before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, falling near instantly into a deep sleep.

The sleep was so deep, that when the front door creaked open, he did not hear it, nor the whispering of voices that carried through the dark halls of the small house. As the voices drew closer he still did not hear them, rolling to his back. He knew nothing until he heard the breaking of glass as one of the intruders knock over a vase he kept near the door, his eyes flashed open only in time to see the outline of a skull like mask illuminated by the glowing green tip of a wand. He moved to sit up, to yell and reached to the bed side table only to find a hand over his mouth and hear a smirk in a quiet voice. "Good Night, Harry Potter"

Then all was pain, and darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Light dawned upon the Malfoy house the same it always had, the sun rising up behind it, casting deep shadows down the front of the hill on which it stood, the red glow of the rising sun giving it an ominous appearance. Draco rose as he did each morning, with a groan as he had not gotten much sleep the night before. Pulling himself out of his four poster he yanked the curtains back and made his way to the dresser where he began looking for today's clothing, his silvery blonde hair disheveled from sleep and falling all about his shoulders in long strands and tuffs. Yawning into the back of his hand he finished laying out his clothes in the faded light that the crack of his window curtains provided. A bath was taken and the daily regimen was completed as always, and by the time the sun had risen high enough for the day to really have begun, he was dressed and walking the long empty halls to the dining room, where he would find a solitary breakfast waiting for him.

As was his habit now, Draco lifted up the plate of kippers, eggs, and blood sausage and the goblet of orange juice and took it into the sitting room where the fire lay, it was a smaller, more intimate room, book shelves lining the walls and a comfy couch with a coffee table poised perfectly for a comfortable meal. Taking a draw from his goblet, he then set it and the plate down before him on the coffee table and snapped his fingers before slicking his shoulder length hair back with a casual gesture. A small house elf walked in, looking up at him meekly. "Fetch the utensils will you? And after that bring the coffee in here." He took another  
draw of his typical morning drink and sat back closing his eyes and clearing his mind, trying to ready himself for another day of living a lie.

When the house elf withdrew, Draco suddenly heard a tapping on the near by glass window. Turning around to gaze behind his couch he saw that in the illuminated window was an owl. He pulled himself to his feet and straitened out his shirt before walking to the window and opening it, excepting the paper and taking the usual payment from the book shelf to his right. Once the coins had fallen into its pouch, the owl flew off, its wingtips flashing a little as they broke the stream of the sun's dawning light.

Turning from the window Draco noticed the house elf returning and setting the coffee and utensils on the table atop a silver tray. He nodded to her and she left in silence. Sitting down he poured his coffee, adding two teaspoons of sugar and enough cream to turn the contents of his cup a milk chocolaty brown. With his index finger he picked up his cup and blew on it before taking a sip and flipping his paper open with a hand, ready to scan the front page to see who the most recent of the death eaters to be captured was. The headline caused him to spit his coffee out in shock, his eyes wide and blonde strands of hair falling into his eyes. He set down the cup and pulled his wand from his shirt to clean the paper now dripping in coffee and read the head line again, his eyes then moving to the article.

The End of the Boy Who Lived?

Last night in the London suburb where Mr. Harry James Potter

resides the night was quiet and peaceful, no one was to know that

on the anniversary of He Who Must Not Be Named's official return

that there was to be a plot most foul. The victim was found lying

half out of his bed in the early morning hours after a flash of light

was seen by the area muggles and yells had been heard through out

the street. The aurors of Harry Potter's unit were soon at the crime

scene to find their fellow cursed but still managing to hold on, and to

hold one of the assailants at so that he might be arrested. The assailant

was found to be a former death eater by the mask and robes he wore

and upon further inspection the Dark Mark branded into his arm. After

being carted away Harry Potter no longer could hold on and slipped into

unconsciousness, his current state at St. Mungo's. In and interview with

one of the officers of the scene…

Draco was shocked, and appalled. The war was over, stupid stunts like this would get them no where. He had been there, this time the Dark Lord had really perished…and unknown to any one but himself and his mentor, he had helped it to happen. He clenched his teeth and stood up walking over the fire place and hexing a fire to life, he grabbed some flew powder from the box atop the mantel and threw it in, before shouting into the depths of the now roaring green fire "Avery! Get your bloody hid here now!" Stepping back he crossed his arms, his pale eyes reflecting the green light of the fire were equally as ablaze.

From the fire out stepped a man in his late forties with tired, devilish looking eyes. He pulled a smile onto his face that looked more like a grimace and bowed to Draco. "How may I help you young Malloy?"

"Tell me why I was not informed of this?" He summoned the Daily Prophet to his hand and then shoved it into the elder man's chest with a forceful push that caused the man to step back slightly. Looking over the paper Avery smiled and chuckled, which did not please Draco in the least.

"You know that we could hardly risk you being found out in our continued movements, you are the only one of us left with the means to support our ventures. You must remain in a good light in the public eye. I know you have an old school boy rivalry with Potter, but it was for the best." He continued to smile, his eyes narrowed as he did with a malicious gleam in their dark depths.

Draco hated that smirk, he simply hated this man actually, but right now that was of no consequence. Looking into the man's dark eyes with his pale ones, he couldn't help but wonder if this man had begun to suspect him, but he would have done something far worse had he. Shaking himself a bit to regain some of his poise he nodded and cleared his throat trying to remain calm. He pulled the sneer he wore so often in school onto his face and smiled himself, chuckling. "Right, of course. I just so miss the action you know? Instead of playing the poster child."

"I know you must, but you are perfect for your position, what with your family and social status," He sighed and then yawned tossing the paper into the fire. "We'll be finishing the job soon enough, perhaps we'll include you then. But for now, I've had a long night, and need my beauty rest, not all of us have the Malfoy looks." Avery grasped at some flew powder and tossed it into the flames, before stepping through and disappearing with a whorl of ash and burning news paper.

"Bloody basturd," Draco spat at the fire before turning around and walking back to the couch, he looked at his breakfast and then pushed it away, leaning forward, elbows on spread knees and hands hanging freely from the wrist between them. Staring at the ground for a moment he spoke to himself quietly. "They're going to try to finish the job soon…I can't let that happen." He stood up and snapped calling the elf into the room and off handedly pointed at the tray and waved his hand so that it be taken away and began to walk into another of the mansion's many rooms, continuing his little speech under his breath. "But how? It's not at though his friends won't try to kill me as soon as they see me thinking I'm in on it. Ah well, it's a risk….But what about the other Death Eaters?" His hand reached to grasp his left arm for a moment subconsciously before shaking his head and continued into the vast hall that lead to the staircase the served as the jewel of the entry way to the manor. "Of course…their always talking about PR…I'll simply say I was doing it for my image." He nodded as he trotted down the staircase and once arriving at the door grabbed his long coat from the hook before hearing a quiet calling from behind him.

"Lucius?!"

Draco turned around and found his mother wondering into the hall, looking about as though dazed. "Lucius? Lucius? Where are you?" Narcissa turned to gaze at Draco and a smile broke on her now rather weathered face, making her appear beautiful once again for a moment. She ran to her son and hugged him tightly. "Lucius I was so worried, I'm so glad you're back. You had me worried so much."

Draco smiled sadly and held his mother…she had gone mad after his father's death in he war, and because of his resemblance to his father, could not seem to keep them apart. At times, he didn't think she remembered she had a son, just that she missed her husband. He held her tightly for a moment, "What are you doing out of your room Narcissa?"

"When you didn't come for so long I had to come looking for you!"

"I visit you every day,"

"No, no! It's been ages Lucius! I've missed you so!"

Draco smiled softly, his pale gray eyes sad and he nodded, she had relapsed for he didn't-know-whath time. "I'm sorry Narcissa, now let's get you to bed." Narcissa smiled and clung to her son as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and lead her back to the main wing of the manor where Narcissa's, once both his parent's, suite lay. He led her into the bed room and sat her on the bed. "I'll be right back Narcissa." Draco walked to the table on the other side of the room and took out the medicine he used to calm his mother down and keep her content. He poured it into a goblet and then poured wine into the other, carrying them over to her. With care he placed the medicine filled goblet into his mother's hands and smiled. "Shall we drink to old times Narcissa?"

The widow smiled and nodded, drinking all of her potion and smiling slightly as it made her a little tipsy in its beginning effects before it would make her drowsy and docile. When Draco finished his own glass as an encouragement to her and set it down, his thoughts for the moment elsewhere, she grabbed his hand and pulled him close kissing him, then pulling away smiling. "You never kiss me anymore Lucius."

Draco swallowed and then pulled a smile back onto his face, this wasn't the first time this had happened. "I'm sorry Narcissa, but I have to got o work now, I'll be home later." He kissed her forehead and left, locking the door behind her and locking her in. Snapping he called the house elf, before wiping his mouth to rid his it of his mother's taste. "Be sure that she doesn't hurt herself as always," He then nodded and steeled himself, and began walking out to the front door again, closing his eyes and sighing deeply, he wished there was more he could do for his mother, and more then anything that she would stop confusing him for his father. It was great to see her happy again for a moment, but then how she would throw herself at him afterwards. It made him uncomfortable, having his mother touching him and kissing him like that, but as he never let anything happen…he supposed that if it made her happy. He shook his head as he walked out onto the sunlit front lawn and slicked his hair back with his hand before it fell to frame his face again, he didn't feel like putting the gel in it this morning. He walked down the sprawling lawns thinking on things.

Maybe it was or wasn't because of his mother, but he had noticed that it wasn't just her he didn't care to have touch him in that fashion, it was all women. He'd known since school that he was homosexual, or at least bisexual. He'd had his fair share of silent crushes on his fellow students, and on some other wizards he had met, but none he could act on. He knew he had to carry on the line, so he would need a wife, and besides, none of the affections had been more then crushes, small affections. He tapped the door of a sleek black car with his wand and climbed into the driver's seat, adjusting the mirrors slightly before tapping the dash and the car roared to life. He turned the car down the sweeping drive of the grounds and drove to the gate that would lead him to the country road he would need to drive to get to London.

He could have simply apparated, but that wasn't how he was. He liked to arrive and do anything in style, as proper for his station, but really, he also like the drive. It was quiet and scenic, and though he'd never admit it to most others, the car was one thing the muggles did right, it was as smooth a ride as a quality broom stick, and depending on the weather, a little nicer. It was nicer today, as the sky was threatening to open and pour as it had much of the day before, staring through the wind shield up at the sky for a moment, he had to wonder if this was how the sky looked to his father when he had been taken to his short stay in Azkaban those nine years ago. Draco shook his head and slicked his hair back again, his father was dead, and his legacy was dying, so wondering about such things was foolish. He had other things he could think about in the hours drive ahead, as he turned the radio onto Wizarding Wireless and tuned in just as the Weird Sisters finished their new single.


	3. Chapter 3

With the release of the Daily Prophet, St. Mungo's found themselves swamped with well-wishers, hoping to give some support to Harry Potter. The receptionist was turning away so many people, warned by the aurors that there may be those within these that seemed so pure of intention that were there for no more reason then to see to it that Harry Potter would never wake again. She slammed her quill down shattering the nib as someone else asked to see him.

"I told you all that no one can see him! Read the sign!" She jabbed her broken quill at a notice she had posted at the front of the reception desk and then adjusted her glasses, the chains that held them around her neck quivering in her annoyance. Looking up she blinked and gasped. "Mrs. Weasley!"

The brown-haired woman before the receptionist was standing with her arms crossed and a hip jutted out. Her dark hair and work robes were in disarray as though she had ran out of the office quickly from a night of research. Behind her stood a tall red-headed man with flipped and spiked red hair like flames, a stern but concerned look on his face.

"Look miss, we'll submit to any tests you need but we need to see Harry"

The receptionist fixed her glasses swallowing; Mrs. Hermione Weasley was one of the officials at the Ministry, an Unspeakable to be exact, the badge on the right breast of her robe indicating such. Mrs. Weasley was also the foremost researcher at St. Mungo's, and everyone knew her status—denying her would be a sure way to get fired. Then there was her husband, Ronald "King Keeper a.k.a. King" Weasley, the current and best keeper the British national team had seen in years. He was just as unorganized looking as his normally impeccably clean wife. He was in his team's t-shirt and jeans, but he was still in his quidditch boots and had his jersey robes on as a bit of a cloak, he must have rushed straight from the training camp the team was currently at before their match against Ireland in the coming month.

"Y-yes well, you'll need to head up to the fourth floor then, room 413…there'll be an auror there to check out that you're who you say you are."

"Well I could only expect as much," snapped Hermione before turning and heading towards the stairs, her sports-star husband trailing behind her as people whispered behind their hands. The gossipers commenting on the their disheveled attire, how they must have flown here like bats out of hell when the had learned that their well-known and long-time friend had been hurt and lay abed. Hermione took the stairs quickly to the top, Ron at her heels, both of them wearing expressions of deep worry and determination. He would be fine, he always was, but what if this time he wasn't? They reached the fourth floor and walked quickly down the hall to reach the solitary room that Harry would be staying in, marked by a young man much the same age they were sitting on the outside of the door.

The man's legs were stretched out and crossed before him, his arms crossed about his chest, head resting there as well as long brown hair fell to cover his eyes. When they grew close that their intended destination was obvious, a wand was pointed at them under his arm and a low voice spoke quietly.

"State ya' name and ya' business before I blast ya' heads from ya' necks."

"We are Hermione and Ron Weasley and we're here to see Harry," Hermione looked over the man as he pulled himself into a standing position. He wasn't local—he was Australian if his accent was any guess, and now that he was standing up he could be seen more clearly. His bangs hung slightly into hazel eyes that were sharp and took in every detail, his chin slightly dusted with stubble that suggested he had probably not shaved in a day or two. She noticed his hazel eyes were as intent upon her as her own brown eyes were on him.

"I'll be seeing ta tha' shall I?" He then pointed his wand at them, and they were surrounded by a white light that turned blue, then he nodded and smiled a little, relaxing. When he wasn't giving them a warning look that could have frightened Fluffy, he was a handsome young man.

"A'right then. I'm Lawry Cassia, I'm Harry's partner, ya'll must be his mates he's been jabberin' on about all these years." He held out a hand to them, the other sliding his wand into a sheath that he apparently war on his forearm like the hidden daggers of old ages.

"Pleasure, though he didn't tell us about you two being partners," Hermione shook his hand. Ron just nodded to him.

"Yeah, sorry mate but we never heard about you,"

"Sa'right, we were only made partners this last week and Harry doesn't seem the type ta mix work and personal life. Not tha ya'll have much time to be meetin' up and drinking with us cause of yar work." Lawry turned and looked at the door to Harry's room and shook his head. "I couldn' believe it. I mean, he left the office yesterday talking about goin down to The Leaky Cauldron for a drink or two with an old friend and then goin' home. The next time I saw him he was just barely there enough ta hold on to the bloody basturd that he had managed to snag. The blighter died when we started interrogatin him, had a spell on him to keep from telling the secrets I suspect."

"So he couldn't tell you anything?" Ron asked, looking appalled.

"No one thought to check for a spell like that first?" Hermione added in with an obviously annoyed tone.

"Look mate," Lawry said, pulling a key from his pocket. "We were a lil' more worried about makin sure Harry here didn' split from this plain of existence if ya catch my drift. He's a good mate and a good auror, it'd be hell ta lose him." He opened the door. In the corner of the room, a fake window illuminating his pale face, lay Harry, his hair wet and plastered about his face and pillow. "I'd join ya', but I have ta remain on guard. Ya' can stay as long as ya' like, I know he'd like tha', and I know ya've done it a far few times before." Once they were in the room he shut it, and the lock could be heard clicking.

Ron slipped his hands into his jeans and shook his head as Hermione rushed forward to push Harry's wet hair from his forehead. His scar seemed to blaze as though brand new. Whistling low, Ron stepped forward, shaking his head.

"Harry, you'd better get out of this one, this is just pathetic after the things you've gotten us through."

"Yes but we were there to help him all those times." Was Hermione's response to Ron's comment.

"Come off it, he's saved our hides as many if not more times then we've saved his. Though I'll admit, I wish we could've been there this time. Why do you think they chose last night of all nights? I mean, You-Know-Who wasn't killed for another month and a half yet." Ron looked down at Harry, puzzled, running his hand through his seemingly windswept hair.

"Ron, they picked last night because they new he would be drunk and unable to fight the filthy mongrels. Yesterday was the anniversary of Sirius' death. You know Harry goes drinking while he grieves over it!"Hermione half cried as she sat down on a chair she had pulled close and finished fixing his hair, frowning deeply with unconcealed worry. Ron shifted uncomfortably and pulled another chair foreword, looking sheepish.

"Oh yeah, right, I had forgotten." He said quietly.

"Obviously." Was all she could muster to reply.

Ron shook his head and leaned forward, his forearms on his knees and his fingers interlocked, looking at Harry. "Hermione…he's going to pull through like always you wager? I mean he always does, he's Harry Potter…"

"But the prophecy is over, it's not like there's anything that guarantees that he won't…" She couldn't say it and covered her mouth for a moment before taking a deep breath. Swallowing her worries, she spoke again. "I mean he barely…and I mean barely survived the battle last time."

"Yeah, but that was against You-Know-Who. I mean, these are just his flunky lackeys…" Ron's words, weren't as confident as he had wanted them to be.

The couple looked on at their best friend and remained quiet, their faces grim as they tried to console themselves. They told themselves that he would be back up and running about saving the day like he always was and always had been.

Draco Malfoy pulled his car to a halt in a car park about a block or two from St. Mungo's. Getting out, it was only a matter in passing to tap the car's door for it to lock and for the spell that would prevent any contact to it by sordid characters to enact. He began walking, pulling his jacket on a bit straighter and slicking his hair back again, trying to make himself look as perfectly presentable as he should always be. He looked at himself in a window and adjusted his deep blue button-up shirt and resituated his jacket once again before running his hand one last time over his hair. He wasn't nervous, why should he be? He was only walking into St. Mungo's to ask to see a person whom he shared mutual dislike for. Walking right into some aurors and most likely Harry's friends, for they were sure to be there. He was able to fool the majority of the wizarding world into thinking he was a good man, that he was just spelled by his parents. He enjoyed the irony of this story the Death Eaters in charge of his public relations had concocted for him should he ever be accused and how close it was to the truth.

Draco Malfoy had risen to be exactly what his parents wanted, a boy just like Lucius—cold, conniving, and devious. They had gotten what they wanted, and sent him to the best wizarding school where he lived up to most of their expectations, perhaps not the academic ones, but their expectations of his character he pulled off flawlessly. At school though, is when he really began to notice how the people were around him, even within his own house. There were people with true friends and love for each other, wants and needs beyond power and greed. These people he hated so much, Harry Potter particularly, because they had everything that he had discovered he wanted. He had money, status, a family, and power in the school...but the older he became the more he began to see how jealous he was of them, of Harry. Jealous of him and all those like him for their friends, their family, their love.

Swallowing, he adjusted his jacket once more and spun to face his destinatin, walking the final block before making the through the fake glass that lead into the hospital. He had, in a way, had a spell cast on him by his parents. One that had taken him 16 years of his life to break before he finally began seeing the truth of the world. It was only then he began working with his mentor—a similar man to himself—to break from what was expected of him, and to do what he had begrudgingly had learned was right. Draco walked up to the receptionist's desk and smiled gently, lowering his eyes half way behind his silver bangs to entice the woman, as he could many, into doing as he asked.

"Hello there, I was wondering where I might find the ward for spell damage? A friend of mine was hit with a nasty jinx when the git was having a drunken duel, and I would like to check on him."

She was relieved that he wasn't another one of the people asking for Harry Potter and nodded pointing to the sign.

"Fourth floor, you should find the ward easily enough."

Draco nodded and thanked her, going on past the stairs and past some guards who were holding the press back. As it was nearing noon, it seemed that the press were now a little wild in trying to get information for their story. Draco sneered and wished to spit as he heard some of them 'What's the damage?', 'Is he permanently disfigured?', 'Was he victim to a werewolf bite?' The more he heard the more he wanted to turn around and hex them for being so stupid. It seemed it was a good thing his hair wouldn't stay slicked back today, they hadn't recognized him, or he would have gotten swept up in all that bullock. There was a time he would have loved attention like that, but that time was years ago when he was a younger, stupider fool who was too concerned with his own stupid self that the rest of the world seemed stupid for not hanging on his every word.

As he walked up the stairs he thought a little about school, and how he had been back then, all the stupid things he had done to get attention…sometimes a specific someone's attention. He shook his head to clear it as he made it to the third landing—maybe this was a mistake, he could just do as he had been doing in the past years, tip off the aurors to the movements of the Death Eaters that still remained. But he had a feeling that Avery suspected him, and it would not be wise to do something such as tip off the aurors now, he would have to wait until one of them slipped up so that he could blame whatever innocent bystander had happened to see them. It was better that an innocent or two were hurt than for him to be discovered and killed when there were so many more of his former brethren to have arrested. He had performed his share of crimes as the burnt mark on his left forearm reminded him everyday, but he was nothing compared to these men.

It was now or never, he reached the fourth floor, and spotted who had to be the auror standing guard over Harry. He noted the rugged handsomeness of the man and silently remarked to himself that he wouldn't mind a man like that standing outside his door to protect him. As he noticed this another man walked past him from behind, another auror by the look of his robes, come to relieve the first so that he could go into the field no doubt

Draco had only been standing there for a moment, so he looked around as though he had went to the wrong level and turned and climbed the last flight of stairs to the gift shop and tea room. Since he was there he might as well give the first man the time to leave, this second auror was a little stupid looking. He was as big and mighty as a troll, and actually had seemed to have good enough looks, but something in the way the man's eyes had held no glimmer of wit when Draco had glanced at him told him that this new guard would be an easy one to slip past. He ordered a flavorful tea and walked over to sit down in a table that would allow him to look onto the bustling street below. He had begun to see how remarkably clueless Muggles were, and how utterly clueless they had remained, even during the war. As his tea was brought to him, he nodded, thanking the waitress not with words, but with a silver sickle. Often enough he thought about how ignorance was some times bliss.

Draco waited for a quarter of an hour to pass before he set down his cup and rose, walking back towards the staircase and descending. Upon arriving at the lower level he found the hulking auror waiting as he suspected he would be. Draco pulled a smile onto his face and walked up to the man as if he had every right in the world to be there, and though he wasn't sure he exactly had that right to be there, he knew he had the reason.

"Hello there sir, I was hoping I might be able to check in on an old friend."

The auror looked up and then looked him up and down.

"State your name."

"Draco Malfoy."

The guard stood up and drew his wand, casting the same spell that Lawry had cast on Ron and Hermione earlier that day to confirm Draco's identity. The white aura turned to blue and he nodded before lowering his wand.

"Alright you're who you say you are, but what are your intentions Mr. Malfoy?"

"I intend to do nothing more to look in on him and to see the state that he is in, hopefully it is not as dire as I have heard." No one would believe him if he said he meant those words. And as stupid as the auror was, Draco could tell the auror didn't quite believe him. This was only confirmed when he cast another spell over Draco that would detect any prominently negative thoughts. There were none, but even if there had been, the auror wouldn't have found them. Draco's mentor had been a master of such spells and their manipulation, to conceal thoughts from this fool was a beginner's exercise. The auror nodded and then took out the key and opened the door.

"Alright then, but I'll be paying attention."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Draco stepped into the room and then cast his eyes upon a pair of very shocked people, their shock quickly turning to anger and disgust. He should have known that they would be here, and he readied himself for what he knew was to come.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here Malfoy?!" demanded Ron as he quickly got to his feet, drawing his wand as the door shut behind Draco.

Draco sighed quietly and looked Ron in the eye.

"I'd be happy to tell you if you would lower your wand Weasley." He held the red-head's gaze and remained silent, his pale eyes flashing in slight annoyance, his hip shifting slightly in discomfort, this was going to be the challenge he had foreseen…and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco waited patiently as Ron continued to hold the wand threateningly at his chest. He lifted his hands to Ron, holding them out, they were empty. "Lower your wand Weasley, and I will tell you why I'm here." His bare palms were dangerously close to sweating he could tell, because though it was not apparent to the wedded couple defending their friend, he was slightly frightened by them. The calm and cold expression on his face didn't reveal the truth.

"I'll keep my wand up and you'll talk Malfoy!" Ron gritted his teeth, baring them with a look like a vicious dog defending his master. Hermione was right behind him, her expression calm, but the look in her eyes was far more frightening. She had been the brightest in their year, the best scores in everything but Defense against the Dark Arts, she had only been bested in that by Harry. Second best was still threatening enough when you knew the plethora of more creative but threatening spells she held in her personal artillery.

Draco rolled his eyes and then sneered, trying to remain calm, and was slightly annoyed as he found himself slipping into old school habits. "Oh come off it Weasley, I'm not armed, and you would be best off to just listen to what I have to say. I won't talk until your wand is lowered and I know my safety is insured."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him further and then blew some air out of her nose as angered horses do, she said quietly to her husband. "Lower your wand Ron, I'd like to hear what this little git's excuse is." Her hands were balled into fists at her sides.

Draco noticed the fist, and his jaw began to hurt remembering the last time it had met one of those hands…that had only been a slap, and he couldn't imagine what a few more years of lugging around heavy books had done to her upper body strength. Watching as Ron begrudgingly lowered his wand he nodded. "Good, you're listening to your better half."

Ron growled slightly, keeping his wand in plain sight. "Spill then Malfoy, why are you here?!"

"Temper, temper Weasley" Was his snide reply before he moved his back against the wall in a subconscious move for protection, he was alone this time, he didn't have Crabbe or Goyle guarding him anymore, not that ever really cared that he didn't associate with them anymore until this point. He would have given anything for their bulk to be there to shield him at that moment, but then how could one return from the dead and the other no longer be a traitor to Malfoy personally who would have seen him die in the last battle in the war? "I am here to make sure that none of the Death Eaters get to Potter."

"A likely and entirely false story if you're already here" Hermione hissed. She stalked foreword, her eyes holding his as she grew close. "Tell us the truth"

Draco shook his head and sneer, raising a lip at them in disgust, before answering quietly. "I must admit that I entirely enjoy how black and white your views have remained after all this time. It would almost seem possible that your narrow Gryffindor minds might have opened after all this time and all the shit that's happened. But no matter, I suppose there's no point in my being here with you both watching over Potter as you are." A mocking smile found its way to his lips as he bowed to them, feeling a bit of sweat appearing on his forehead, relieved he had left his hair down that day, hiding this fact. He stood again and gave them a look like he was about to spit poison. "Do bother to keep watching him, or I can promise that he'll die." Draco turned and snapped the door open, storming out and down the hall, startling the guard. He gritted his teeth, why had he thought that they would even consider listening to him? Hadn't the past told him that first impressions were lasting? He jerked the collar of his long coat and began down the staircase slamming into someone. "Excuse me"

"Oi there now, wha's ya rush?" It was the dark haired auror from before, his long bangs falling infront of his eyes, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Aven't I seen ya before?"

"Not to my knowledge, I'm sorry," Draco replied quickly and began down the stairs again only to feel a strong grip on his upper arm holding him still and turning him to face dark eyes.

"Nah, I da'mned sur I've seen ya before"

Draco tensed in the tall dark Aussie's grip and held his breath for a moment before his expression became cold. "Unhand me will you? I have somewhere I need to be."  
"I think this is were ya need to be, now wha's ya'r name bloundie?"

The young Malfoy's eyes opened a little wider in indignation, but he then hissed quietly. "My name is Draco Malfoy, now, release me"

Lawry frowned deeply and tightened his grip on Draco's arm, his hand near his wand. "Harry tol' me about ya, rival from Hogwart's ain't ya?" He drew his wand, but didn't aim it yet, just spun it in his hand for a moment, and then pointed it at the sleeve of Draco's left arm and slid the sleeve with a spell, revealing the dark mark. Lawry's eyes darkened a shade and he lifted his eyes to Draco's. "An' a Death Eater ta boot"

Draco pulled away and stubbled back a few steps grasping the wall so that he didn't tumble down the stair well. "Reformed Death Eater thank you, I had thought the Prophet had made that perfectly clear by now."

"Funny thin' about the papers, lots of time they lie," He pointed his wand at Draco's chest, freezing him in place. "I'll be checkin' on my partner, an if all's well with him and his friends, I'll be letting you go, if not…" He seemed to block out the light from the floor above by shifting his weight from one combat boot sheathed foot to the other and his ruggid vistage turned dangerous. "Then, I suppose I'll have to file a report about an unfortunate tumble down the stairs…" He turned and walked away, back to the room. Walking past the idiot guard and opening the door, looking at Ron and Hermione. "What's goin on?"  
Hermione had been discussing Draco's suddenly showing up with Ron when Lawry walked in. "Lawry, everthing's fine, we just received an unexpected visit from an old enemy"

"Bloody damn, blighter, chased him off," was Ron's remark on the subject.  
"Din't do anything then right?" Lawry looked between the couple.

"Not while we were here," was Hermione's reply, "However, that doesn't necessarily mean he's innocent…"  
Lawry nodded then turned to leave, his hand on the door. "Well, unless I have something solid, I can't hold him. Thanks" He left the room and walked to the stair well and stopped at the top and swore, he was gone.

As soon as Lawry had left, Draco removed the spell from himself, turning and bolting down the stairs, only slowing when he reached the lobby, though is stride was still swift, his long rain coat swishing behind him with his speed. A few of the reporters looked up in interest, and tried to follow him, but he managed to apparate out to a hidden side street before they caught up with him. He sighed deeply and leaned against the wall. "Bloody hell…bloody effing hell!"

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, pulling on the silvery and silky threads before he pushed off of the wall. How was he supposed to guard Potter when his friends, and now his partner – his auror partner surely, not the ulternitive…-- were there. Lawry had probably heard most of the truth of Draco's own past relationship with the trio and their friends, and the fact that the Aussie disliked him wasn't even in question. He pushed off the wall…he'd have to get more…creative…

Draco tapped the door to his car, the door opening, and he sat in the driver's seat, staring out the window at the wall of the parking cavalcade, thinking. There were only two options he could think of really, don't guard him, or continue to show up, and ignore them. The first option was out of the question at this point, but the second option, would be very uncomfortable. He sighed and turned the car on, pulling his belt on and shook his head, his bangs flipping out of his eyes that were flicking to the rearview mirror as he backed up.

Uncomfortable seemed to be the choice, and as he drove he reasoned with himself, he'd gotten used to uncomfortable over the past seven years, and in some cases he found uncomfortable lead to something not entirely bad. Like his ability to drive this, admittedly fantastic, vehicle. After the war's end, he'd had to hide out with his mother…among muggles. At the time, he'd despised it…hated it, and had little to no wizardly contact except for the squib that was assisting them with basic things. He'd been forced to live as such for nine months. At the time, he hated it, but in retrospect, he knew a lot of things he didn't know before, and if he was ever desperate, he knew that no one would ever think to look for a Malfoy in a little muggle town.

Draco rolled down the window, thinking the cool air of the freeway might help to clear his head as he left London and merged onto the vast road networks. It had been the PR people among the Death Eaters that had decided that he should learn to drive, as sort of a show of good will towards muggles. Again, at the time, he hadn't been to fond of it, but once the deed had been done and he'd purchased his own car, a beautifully fast model he reminded himself as he tapped the dash, causing it to disappear to the naked eye and pushed on the gas, speeding around the other cars. The whip of the wind reminded him of flying, only slight more comfortable for long distances than astride a broom stick, and more fun than apperating or using a port-a-key.

He could only wonder as the cold wind hit his face, what the consequences would be of him running before, chastising himself for being such a coward. He'd improved in that aspect he had to continually remind himself, if only to keep his conviction to return the next day, and however long it would take to keep Har- Potter safe.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione never really left the St. Mungo's any more, her and Ron's two sons were staying with her mother-in-law. As the clock struck noon, Hermione stood up quickly and grasped the mirror that hung from her waist, glaring at the unwelcome member in the corner and walked over to the window, casting a silence spell towards that unwelcome member so that he could not listen in. "Hey Ron, Harry's fine"

Ron's hair, she noticed, couldn't have spiked higher if he'd put a permanent sticking charm to it. Since he'd been forced to return to the training camp only three days after the attack on Harry, he'd been pulling on his red locks in frustration. His team mates joked that if he kept it up, then the King would loose his Ruby Crown he'd told her. He also told her that he'd put a stop to their prodding quickly enough. It had been a week since he was forced to return, and just as he did everyday, he had called her using the com-mirrors they shared, to check on Harry. "Good…is_ He_ still there?"

"Yes! I swear, if it weren't for the fact I continue to check the logs and have been staying her myself I'd think he never left! He comes back every day and just sits there!" She kept her back to the _him_ in question and stared out the enchanted window before looking down at the mirror again.

"Has he tried anything yet? I know Lawry's just dying to get him on something"

"Entirely true, but he hasn't done anything. Other than trying to start a conversation with me the day after you left…" She was still puzzled by that one, he'd actually…been cordial, asked her how her research was progressing, and if her children were doing well…it was almost unnerving. Though he'd given up as soon as she made it clear she wasn't answering.

"Yeah, figured out what that was about?" Ron shifted and sat on his cot, his eyes on his wife's confused face through the mirror in his hands.

"No…of course, I haven't really talked to him since" Hermione frowned and ran a hand over her rather messy hair, not having brushed it in a few days would do that.

Ron shifted and growled a little before speaking, "You know, you're the one for research, and don't even get me started on some of the gross things you do and don't tell me about…so maybe it's worth 'testing the subject' you know? I know you can kick his ass Hermione, and I trust you will if he does _anything._"

Hermione chuckled a little, and smirked at her husband. "Not to mention the auror that's always posted right outside the door."

"Well yeah, that too," He grinned sheepishly at her.

"I know that's the only reason England was able to pull you back to that camp."

"Hey, I don't want to lose Harry, or you, is that to much to ask after all the people that have died?" He frowned at her, his eyes consumed with worry, and sadness over his lost brothers.

Hermione touched the mirror and made and soothing sound with her voice. "I understand Ron…I know." She kissed the mirror and then smiled. "Go get something to eat or I'll have to worry about losing you to a rouge bludger due to malnourishment"

Ron smirked and laughed. "Alright, but please, Hermione, love, be watchful…" He sighed and his face became serious. "And try to find out what that snake is up to"

Hermione nodded and her face became a mirror of her husband's. "Alright Ron, now go get some food, I swear I heard you stomach growl just now" She saw a smirk on her husbands face before he disappeared. She allowed the mirror to drop down to her hip where it hung on its metal chain, she took a deep breath and removed the spell, turning to face Draco, it was about time she got some answers, even if that meant answering some of his questions.

She didn't care for that slightly entertained look he had on his face when she noticed a quick glance in her direction from the pale haired man who sat, legs and arms crossed, in the corner opposite her sleeping friend. "What's so funny Malfoy?"

She found the raise in his eyebrows as if he was surprised at her question most annoying, "Oh, talking to me now?"

"Answer the question"

"Temper Weasley, please, you're in a sick room." He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands in his lap, his pale eyes on her own, the soft searching look they gave her she wasn't sure about. "I was amused by the way you ignore me most moments, but as soon as you're done talking to your husband you always reserve that special glare just for me." That grin just _had _to be mocking her.

"I see, and I have to wonder, isn't it justified?" She crossed her arms, looking at him across the room, and down towards him.

"From the school court yards? Heavens yes," He shifted and switched his legs so that the one on bottom didn't fall asleep, his hair falling into his eyes, he'd left it down again, she wondered why. "But I continue to be astounded how someone such as yourself, a-" He chuckled quietly, "Leader in equal rights among all beings, will not allow the idea into your mind that perhaps a member of your own society could be more than what they seemed."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and growled. "So you're not only a snake but what?" She said the first thing that came to mind. "A rat?" She rolled her eyes.

His eyes flashed up to hers with a hidden anger, and then he lowered his eyes and his hand over his left arm for a moment. "I suppose, though it depends on what kind of rat and which aspects of the animal you're calling into question."

That threw her, and it was about a half a minute before she managed to collect her thoughts again. "That statement made no sense."

Hermione watched as he winced, just barely, really, it was more his hand tightening over arm. And then watched as he stood and grabbed his coat. "I'll give you this to ponder, a rat is one who tells secrets, who infiltrates even the darkest, most closed places, and has been known to betray those to whom he was at one time close." His coat was over his shoulders before he hit the door. "Good Day"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco had to admit, the daily mirror contacts were both cute, and a little annoying, cute, as he enjoyed watching Hermione talk to her husband, envying their obvious affections, and annoying as he noticed that she always would shoot him a look over her shoulder as she talked to her red headed husband. He was almost sure that on the other side of that silence charm that she was talking about him more than normal today, oh lovely, perhaps the questions would finally come.

He'd been preparing himself since the day he'd run off, coming up with his answers, what he wanted to be truthful about, what he wanted to keep to himself. And when he'd tried to be friendly, ease the tension, he'd just created more…not that he was surprised, he hadn't expected tea time chat.

He saw as the conversation ended, and looked up as she turned around looking right at him, hmm, would she tell him to go away again? She'd given that up about four days ago, to which he was grateful, because truthfully, that look of wrath on her face was enough to make most anyone want to get the hell away. He smirked a little, why shouldn't she be like a dragon guarding her egg? He blinked slightly as he heard her speak.

"What's so funny Malfoy?"

He raised an eyebrow, so she was speaking to him. And oddly enough, it was a question, though not a very friendly one, not a shouted order of his retreat that he heard. He continued to look at her and couldn't resist old habits and returned with a snide question in return. "Oh, talking to me now?"

"Answer the question"

"Temper Weasley, please, you're in a sick room." He had to try to calm her down, the calmer she was, the less he wanted to run. He kept reminding himself that he wasn't the coward he was when he was younger and that there were scarier people out there then her…though not by much. He uncrossed his arms, something he'd read in a muggle magazine what seemed like forever ago 'How to Make Yourself More Approchable" was the name of the article or some such. It said that crossed arms were a defensive position and open arms and shoulders were more inviting. He also knew honesty was probably a good thing too in this instance. "I was amused by the way you ignore me most moments, but as soon as you're done talking to your husband you always reserve that special glare just for me." He grinned a little, he had to admit, to her, he probably deserved more than merely the daggers coming from her eyes.

"I see, and I have to wonder, isn't it justified?" He watched as she then crossed her arms…was she getting defensive? Yes…but when she did it there was also something intimidating about it.

"From the school court yards? Heavens yes," Draco shifted his legs for something to distract himself from her gaze, and was able to look down and away for a moment, though he still watched her through his bangs…another aricle from years passed, slicked hair seemed to be a classic stereotype of 'badboys' and 'tough guys', he was trying to make it clear he wasn't one anymore…that, and his father used to wear his hair that way… "But I continue to be astounded how someone such as yourself, a-" He chuckled quietly, remembering her 'S.P.E.W" buttons in school, couldn't someone as smart as her have come up with something better? "Leader in equal rights among all beings, will not allow the idea into your mind that perhaps a member of your own society could be more than what they seemed."

"So you're not only a snake but what?" He heard the irritation in her voice, and it only seemed to be escalating. "A rat?"

Draco heard that last comparison, and his thoughts turned to Pettigrew, a man hated by the Order, and Draco himself…because he saw aspects of his own personality in the now, thankfully dead, man. His eyes blazed for a moment, he detested the comparison. He then lowered his eyes and calmed himself, placing his hand over the Dark Mark, a frown deeply lining his face for amoment. "I suppose, though it depends on what kind of rat and which aspects of the animal you're calling into question."

The silence seemed odd, he'd expected a quick laugh or a rebuke, but then she sounded more confused than anything. "That statement made no sense."

Just as he was about to give her an explanation, the mark blazed, and his hand tightened. Another Death Eater was in St. Mungo's, he had to head them off, they couldn't get too close, he'd come up with his excuses for them too. He stood up, grasping his coat for something to do to relieve the now dull ache. "I'll give you this to ponder, a rat is one who tells secrets, who infiltrates even the darkest, most closed places, and has been known to betray those to whom he was at one time close." He pulled on his cloak, he had to get to the stair well and head his 'fellow' off. "Good Day" He had a feeling he left her more than a little confused, and with enough to ponder, and perhaps…she may even call around to check up on what he was talking about…they'd kept his name out of it years ago…but maybe the Order might be willing to bring it up if the specific subject of 'double agents' was breeched.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco walked past Lawry, and down the halls towards the stairs. He heard the man's chair scrape the floor as the man stood up quickly. "Fin'lly kicked ya out, did she?"

He didn't have time for this, "No, I left of my own free will today." He turned around and looked the man in the eye. "Just get back to guarding and quit chewing on me like a guard dog on a bone, I'm not going to do anything, so leave be." He spun around then and moved away quickly, and sure enough he could hear Lawry start to follow him. "You'll leave your partner unguarded if you pursue me." Thankfully that was all it took, the auror stayed in place, though if the temperature change was any indication, or was Draco merely imagining it? The roughish auror was fuming.

Draco took the stairs two at a time once he was out of sight, with shouts from the paintings that he be careful. In the process he took out his wand, and clenched his jaw, injuring the hand, bandages like what one would place on it in the home appearing. Soon enough, there he was, the Death Eater sent to take care of Harry Potter…or at least to check on how complete the security was. Draco frowned a little, this man was a year younger than him, and he was a rash one at that, it was any wonder they sent this young man as the first wave, if he died, it would be no real lose to them. The pasty young man with the woven dread locks looked up and was surprised when he saw Draco and stopped in his accent of the stairs. "Draco? What are you doing here?!" The young man spoke quickly and nervously.

Draco relaxed slightly, he'd forgotten, this boy was also a twit and was more than easy enough to manipulate. "Charles, I could ask the same of you." He held up his self injured hand. "My mother received a burst of energy this morning in one of her fits and my wand was in the other room."

Charles shifted and smiled a little, like he found that funny, "You're kidding me right?"

Draco raised his eyebrows imperiously, "And why should I?" He watched as Charles shifted, looking around, the paintings were watching.

"It's just so, undignified. And you could have gone to the 'family' healer you know" His eyes darted among the paintings, quickly loosing his nerve now that Draco was distracting him.

"Yes well, the 'family' is always encouraging me to portray a sense of normalcy, and something as precious as my hands I would like to be fixed by professionals" He smiled a little mockingly, then walked over to Charles and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Now…why don't you just head on back 'home', that is unless you have an injury yourself?" Draco's eyes were searching, had they placed a charm on the younger man to _make_ him finish?

Charles shifted, his eyes continuing to dart about nervously, and Draco watched as the young man swallowed and licked his lips, nodding. "Right…I'll just head on home then…" He then smirked a little, seemingly trying to make himself feel less pathetic. "Make sure to be careful around your mother, she's a real tiger that one" He laughed and then headed down the stairs from whence he came.

Draco's grip tightened on his wand…how _dare_ that man mock his mother! He took a deep breath and clenched his shoulders, slowly releasing them and the tension, he'd used her for an excuse, so it was only natural that there would be some use of her as a counter. He healed his hand and started down the stairs a few minutes after Charles. He could have just conjured up bandages, for all that little blighter bothered to check anything. He planned to make sure that Charles made it all the way out of the building and away from his intended target. He'd have to leave himself for the day, and just prayed that Lawry's irritation with him would keep the auror posted there the rest of the day.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione stood after he left, utterly confused, not a feeling she liked. She frowned, and already started going through as many explanations as she could concoct, keeping some, discarding others. One kept popping up 'traitor' but he'd never been with the Order, so he couldn't be a traitor to them, like the rat Peter. There was Snape though, he'd changed sides and had helped them until the end even if it hadn't always seemed that way….could Malfoy have...? No, that little punk from school couldn't have possibily have had the conscience, let alone the guts it took to be able to work as a mole.

Hermione walked over to her chair beside Harry and huffed a little, little ferret was driving her crazy. She ran a hand over her hair and then pulled down her robes, her hand brushing her mirror at her hip…the communication went to a select few other places as well, perhaps she should ask how her sons were doing. She picked up he mirror, and spoke her mother-in-law's name clearly. She would only need to wait a few moments before one of her three year old sons picked up the mirror and called over their shoulder. "Gram! Mummy's in the mirror!" Hermione smiled a little as she heard the red headed woman bustle into the room and then into sight. There was a smile still on her face when Molly Weasley collected the mirror from her young grandson.

"Well hello there dear, what can I do for you?" Molly had a smile on her face, though her worry lines from the war were particularly prominent as of late with her worry over Harry.

Hermione smiled, trying to keep things happy. "I was just calling to check on my boys, are they alright?"

Molly seemed to relax, she'd been expecting bad news. "Oh they're doing perfectly, remind me of Fred and George at that age" Her eyes became sad, thinking of her lost sons, but then she smiled as she sat down and pulled one of the twins into her lap. "So they're up to nothing but trouble"

Hermione chuckled and leaned back in her chair. "Yes well, I know that, I'm sorry for leaving you to deal with their shenanigans"

Molly made a face and laughed, "Oh tosh! I enjoy it, and I feel better having you or Ron there will Harry…is he improving?"

Hermione glanced over at the still unconscious Harry and frowned a little. "Well…in a way, his eyes are moving more beneath his lids, so that means his mind is still functioning on some significant level, though with the layers of magic they placed on him, it'll still take myself and the rest of those working on him a time to concoct a way to remove them…of course, I've not really had the chance to help them"

"Why ever not? You're the best researcher they have, surely you can leave Harry's side for a moment? Have Remus or someone watch over him in your place? Are the aurors not doing their job?" She was giving Hermione a stern look.

Hermione shook her head, "No, they're doing their jobs well for the most part…"

Molly raised her eyes in concern, "For the most part?"

Hermione sighed, "They keep letting someone get past them, say that there's nothing they can do to stop him because he keeps checking up clean."

"And who might this be?" She'd give those aurors a piece of her mind.

Hermione took a deep breath, readying herself to read Molly's expression when she spoke, "Draco Malfoy" The reaction she received, was not the one she expected…not at all.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione shook her head, she could hardly beleive what she'd learned. She'd thought the secrets the order kept from them had come to an end, but it seemed that was not the case. She took a seat and pulled on her tossled hair, her hand running over the face of the mirror, thinking about the conversation she'd just had with Molly.

_"Ah, well while he's not my first choice, he's certainly not the worst," Molly had said while she tossled one of the young twins' hair.  
Hermione had frowned, 'What are you talking about? He's Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater."_

_Molly had sighed, 'Well, technically yes, but then so was Severus. I can't say we all liked him, but he was loyal to us til the end. After what had happened to Dumbledore...it seemed that Draco had desided to defect to our side, Severus ended up taking him entirely under his wing and Draco helped to get us the information that Severus could not. Kingsly also tells me that he's been leaving 'annonimous' tips as to the goings on and locations of the Death Eaters since his return from hiding.' Molly scowled at Hermione's look a disbeleif. 'Now I know that you dont' care for the boy, and I can't say I do myself, but he did prove that he was willing to do the right thing, and he's done right by the Order.'_

_'He's been tipping us off for years?' It just didn't seem to make sense, Draco, son of that loathesome Lucius Malfoy, had acctually been working with them for years? But then...Snape had always been loyal to them even when it seemed he'd become Voldemort's right hand man. _

_Molly nodded and set her grandson down on the floor and watched as he ran off to join his brother as they looked over some quidditch figures. "Yes, I'd say over half of the ones captured in the last six years were with his help."_

_Hermione could hardly fathom it, but she thought back to the ferret's words on the first day he had arrived, about wanting to keep the rest of the Death Eaters from getting to Harry. It seemed...that Malfoy may well have been telling the truth...that was something that was hard to grasp, even for her. 'I see'_

_Molly sighed and flicked her wand to set dinner to begin making its' self. 'I know it's hard to beleive, but it's true. We're sorry we never told you, not that we don't trust you all, of course we did and still do. But we don't like using his name in corrispondance because he's still helping us, and we'd rather he not get caught. So please, try to keep it quiet.'_

_Hermione had nodded in understanding before shaking her head in continued disbeleif. But Molly would never lie to her, 'I understand, though, I will need to tell Ron this of course, and Harry...when he wakes up...'_

Hermione looked out the fake window and started running her fingers through her hair...thinking...

A look of determination came to her face, if Malfoy was so determined to watch over Harry, she'd let him. After all, there was an auror outside, and she was getting tired of watching her fellows continue to fail in unraveling the curses that held Harry as he was. She'd talk to Ron tonight about her plans, though frankly she'd still complete them even if he told her not too. She loved him dearly, but Ron was good at strategy on a quidditch feild and on a chess board, not in interpersonal relations. Tomorrow, she'd talk to him.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione tapped he foot in frustration. Now that she had made her up her mind to see to things herself, she wanted to get started. Of course Malfoy would pick today to be late. She paced the room, he would come everyday around 9 am, it was 9:05 and he still wasn't here! Normally she wouledn't be this particular about it, but the sooner she started working, the sooner Harry would wake up. When she heard the door open she spun around. 'It's about time you got here'

Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion, hand still on the door as he'd hardly entered yet. 'Excuse me?'

Hermione walked up to him, and placed a finger in the center of his chest, and spoke in something only barely above a hiss, the expression she wore hard. 'You'd better make sure nothing happens to Harry, or so help me Malfoy, I will make what remains of your life a living hell.' She watched his eyes and then nodded, pushing past him and out the door, heading towards the labs.

Draco blinked a few times, still standing in the doorway, entirely confused. Slowly he closed the door and walked forward into the room, taking his chair in the corner. He was....alone...with Potter. Was this a joke? Was another of Potter's followers going to be coming to sit in with them? Surely she'd not just left them alone together.

For an hour Draco sat on the edge of his chair, tense and fidgitting, but no one came. It seemed that he had really been left alone with Potter. Thinking about it, he realised what must have happened, Ms. Unspeakable must have made a call and discovered his true colors. It was obvious that she only barely trusted him as far as she could throw him, but depending on the spell she used, that may well have been rather far.

Draco finally settled back in his chair, and watched the sleeping auror on the other side of the room. After a time, he grew bored, at least when there was another person there he had someone to watch that did something, maybe torment them a little. He checked the door, before he stood and walked over towards the sleeping Harry Potter.

This was the closest the two men had been to each other in years. Draco slid his eyes over the sleeping man and scowled, it seems Potter was still the same as he'd always been and that his profession hadn't mared his face yet. Draco sat in the chair beside the bed, crossing his arms and legs, a subconsious jesture to protect himself. The man that lay unconsious in the bed before him had been a constant thorn in his side for years. He was everything he'd discovered he'd wanted to be, and sadly was something he'd found himself thinking about almost daily for many years. He scowled, why did he feel this need to protect Potter anyway? There had been many other aurors hurt and he hadnt' felt the need to risk his own neck for them. But then, they hadn't been as famous or important as Potter...

Draco's eyes moved slowly down Potter's form, taking him in, his eyes then landing on one of the hands that lay atop the coverlet. It was that hand that Potter had extended to save his life in that last battle those 7 years ago, almost to the day within the month. Draco's hand twitched as he looked at it, he'd be dead if it weren't for Potter. That was it, he wanted to repay Potter, make them even. He didn't like being in debt to anyone, never had...so that was surely why he was specifically fixated on Potter...had to be...

Draco sat back farther in his chair and stared out the window, now that the one most likely to find a cure for the fallen hero was working, the Death Eaters would be moving more quickly. Draco just prayed that the countercurse could be found before there was no more need for it...


End file.
